A Second Chance
by Ravenclaw Red
Summary: Because she couldn't just spend her last year mourning, because the world needs saving, and because our hero needs to get laid, no? Four heirs fic, rewrite of book six. My first fic, please be gentle about it. Pretty well written if i say so, plz review
1. One summer day

Disclaimmer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does. That's final!!

A/N: Wow, my first Harry Potter fic. I'm so happy i could dance! Well, i gave writing a full story my first shot, tell me what you think about it, please! Preeetty please, review! Oh, and if you are a writer, give me some advice, i feel like i need it.

* * *

Marietta was snoring. Loudly. No, really. 

The curly-haired girl lay sprawled in bed, twisted in a way that made it almost painful to watch. Her mouth was slightly ajar, with just the tiniest spec of drool sliding down the corner of her mouth and dripping unto the pillow. A cushion slammed against her face, but she barely noticed, merely moving to her side and mumbling a couple of incoherent words before sighing happily.

Her roommate groaned, grabbing her remaining pillow and pressing it hard against her head in a desperate attempt to block out the noise. Either that or she was trying to asphyxiate herself as her friend's snores did what she had thought impossible and, incredibly, became even louder than before. The cushioned pillow did little, such a poor job, actually, that she gave up hope of catching some sleep for what remained of the night and flung it across the room and against the wall.

With a sigh of discontent, she sluggishly slid from the side of her bed, flinching as her feet touched the cool surface of the floor. The boards creaked as her full weight finally shifted and settled on the floor, and she gave a long stretch, hearing as her bones creaked here and there. Her shoulder blade gave a twitch of pain, but she ignored it. Old quidditch wound from her first practice in her second year. The scar had long since healed, and the pain had dulled to a point where she no longer felt, or cared about it. It was all in the past, and dwelling in the past was, well, illogical.

She took a step forward, and her foot caught on something, probably the corner of the clawed foot of her bed. She jerked back, clutching her foot in pain. She jumped on the spot a few times, eyes watering in pain, before tightly clamping her mouth shut to block out the howl of pain that was threatening to escape her lips. Her brown eyes shifted to the side as she rubbed her toes in an attempt to stifle the wound. Her friend was still sleeping soundly. Well, not soundly. That girl…she could sleep through the apocalypse. She grumbled an oath under her breath, face somber.

It was pretty obvious. She could deny it no longer. Cho Chang was not having a good summer. And, by the looks of it, neither was her house.

The room was a mess, strewn with books and old school notes. A few candy wrappers here and there, shoes clumsily spilled out of the closet. Clothes where tossed haphazardly over the floor, drawers, desk and chairs. Two trunks lay opened, their contents scattered around the room or buried under piles or rubbish. Upturned robes and school uniforms were in both of their mattresses, rising like small mounds on the vacant sides of their beds. Quills, parchments and empty ink bottles drifted or rolled in the small breeze that entered through the lone half-opened window. A stack of old newspapers was the only thing seemingly organized in the room.

The headline of the top paper, which was also the last she had bought, caught her attention briefly. It read in big, bold black letters: **Harry Potter: The Chosen One?** And that was all she could make out, or read by any matter, in the dim light of her wand. The rest was smoldered by a drawing of the said boy. Her eyes flickered down to it, watching amused at it looked at her brightly with a smile.

Harry Potter stared back at her for the first time in months. He gazed up at her fondly from under thick, big round glasses. The shaggy black hair that hid his famous scar became even more untidy as he ran a hand through it in an attempt to comb it down, cheeks stinging light magenta. Cute kid, too bad he had an anger management problem. She smiled sleepily, vaguely remembering the day she had drawn it.

Had it been after D.A. practice in the past year? Yes. That was it. He had posed for half an hour as she drew him, watching every move, expression, and breath. Even the way his eyes brimmed with plain, undiluted affection for her as they had locked with her own on various occasions. She was certain she had managed to capture his love for her correctly in the image. He had liked this picture, and told her so himself. And then a kiss, and a laugh, and a smile. Maybe a few more kisses. She shook her head hastily as she slipped off her pajamas and into a faded green camisole and a pair of worn-out shorts. And again, memories were nice, but that was all they were: memories. And it was pointless to dwell in the past.

The future would push you forward. The past would drag you down. And it was always better being pushed forward than being dragged down, right?

Stupid old stairs. The oak wood of the Celtic-themed stairs creaked as she went down, and her ears drummed in discomfort. It was an old house, beautiful and large, but old and noisy. A few drafts here and there, nothing that couldn't be fixed with a bit of magic, but a good choice for a first house otherwise. Both she and Marietta had spent the little gold they had earned during summer jobs or from their parents in it, and it hadn't turned out such a bad deal. Five rooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, small living-room and a fantastic yard. If anything, it was too big for only two people. Of course, they just had to be over-exited. What few they had left been spent on lavish decorations and clothing to match their new lives.

In the end, they didn't even have a galleon left to buy food supplies, and they had to return to their parent's shame-faced and asking for a few more cents to complete their home.

With a sigh, Cho rummaged thought the food drawers, pushing a few pasta boxes and some spices aside as she looked for something good enough to eat. It wasn't like she was hungry, it was the fact that she had nothing to do but sit down that had sent her food-hunting. Her mouth twisted to the side as she stared at some sweets and cereal boxes in thought. Nothing really appealed to her for the moment. She had stuffed herself so often with sweets and cereals, and other kinds of food common to her kitchen that most made her gag on sight. With nothing else to choose from, she settled for a can of soup on the bottom shelf and stuffed it into a small pot before setting it to boil on the stove.

A few seconds later she poured it into a bowl and placed it on the table before slumping down to eat. She sat on the chair and yelped as something wet sank against her back, sending a wave of shivers as frigid water leaked past her clothing and reached her skin. She abruptly sat up before groaning in distaste. A pair of red panties with the word _sexy _emblazoned against fire meet her unfortunate gaze. She gave a grunt of disgust as she pulled the soaked piece of clothing out of the seat's head and tossed it aside. She didn't even want to know…

"Up already?" Marietta lazily made her way into the kitchen, and Cho grinned as she caught sight of her messy curls sticking up everywhere. "What's with the grin?"

"Your hair is messed up" she replied with another quirky grin. Marietta scoffed before yawning sleepily and pulling out a slice of chocolate cake and a carton of milk from the fridge "And that's gonna kill you."

"I don't care. It'll be a good death." Her friend took a large chunk of the dessert and sat on the chair facing her. Chocolate stained her mouth and the tip of her nose but she ignored it, taking a long gulp out of the milk carton. "God, you didn't let me sleep last night…"

"What?!" Cho asked, confused and curious. Marietta had been the one snoring like a pig for most of the night, and _she_ had been the one who hadn't gotten any sleep? She almost wanted to toss her spoon at the girl "You where the one snoring like a troll with sinus, and I'm the one who kept you up?!"

"Igh dunh snore." Her friend said through a mouthful of cake. She swallowed down with difficulty, and Cho watched as her eyes watered, waiting for her to continue "Geez, almost choked. Anyways, _you_ were the one _moaning_ in your sleep."

"What? That's crazy!" Cho stuttered in shock, watching as a smirk crept up her friend's face when she began blushing heavily. "You're insane! All that sugar is going to your brain. Not to mention your teeth. And your thighs."

"Well," Marietta said smugly, waving what remained of her cake around "Want to know what you where moaning? Or do you want to know whose_ name_ you were moaning?"

"No!" She spat hotly, trying her best to keep cool under the accusation. In the end, it was too much, and her whole face and neck changed from light tan to tomato-red. "No I didn't!"

"_Oh! Oh! Oh! Harry. Mmmm_" Marietta leaned back into her chair and rolled her eyes, exaggeratingly opening her mouth as the passionate moans escaped her lips. "_Oh, Go_d! _Harry_, _God!! Ugh, ugh! Oooh!!_"

"Etta, enough!" She was getting seriously annoyed and embarrassed. Had she really? The thought startled her. She didn't _recall_ doing anything of the sort, and she was even pretty sure that she had not dreamt anything at all. Especially not about Harry. Maybe Marietta was toying with her. Either way, it was getting her angry.

"Haha! That'd be a funny one, wouldn't it? You getting your first orgasm out of a dream." Marietta laughed happily. Clearly she found this whole situation very amusing. "I thought you said you were over him."

"Etta…"

"Must've left you wanting. Cuz the way you were moving in bed, it seemed like you were enjoying it! Was he really that good? You never did talk about what you did with Potter after D.A. practice."

"Etta, I'm warning you…"

"I mean, it was the _Room of Requirement_! All you had to do was think of a bed and _boom_! Instant Kama Sutra!!"

"Argh! Etta!!!" Cho sent the spoon flying her way before she lunged at her, spilling the bowl of soup, milk and the table as she made a grab for the other girl's shirt. Marietta gave a yelp and barely managed to duck the metal spoon before breaking into a clumsy run. "I'm going to kill you!"

It was a pathetic thing, really. Cho managed to catch her by jumping over the couch before pinning her against the ground. The whole thing was a mess of tangled limbs and giggles as her friend giddily laughed, dodging her playful punches. Cho was small, normal in height and small enough in figure to be called petite, but she was definitely not weak. As a matter of fact, she was quite the imposing person. She managed to wrap her legs around Marietta so she couldn't squirm, and she hooked her arm behind her head to grab her in a chokehold. With a gasp, Marietta began flailing wildly, now desperate for the air Cho's chokehold was cutting off.

"Who's my bitch?" Cho snarled, recalling how Marietta had once said the same thing about her. She was grabbing her head forcefully but letting her hold lose so that the other girl could talk. "Hmmm?"

"God, CHO!"

"I said, who's my bitch?!"

"God, I am! Happy now?"

"No" Cho said jokingly while she grinned evilly "Now say I'm the most perfect, most beautiful thing the world has ever seen."

"Geez, narcissist much! Ouch!" She sighed in defeat and slumped against her grip "Fine, fine. You are the most beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful, magnificent, perfect thing the world has ever, or will ever see."

"Ha!" With a triumphant bout of laughter, Cho released her head, watching as Marietta moved to her knees, hair sticking up awkwardly on her head. Her friend huffed, patting down her hair before giving her small smile.

"It's true, you know." She said slowly, watching for any other sign of aggression.

"Whoa, whoa!" Cho shot her an amused look "I don't swing that way, Etta."

"Not that!" Marietta shoved her playfully "That you were moaning in your sleep. It got me angry at first, you know, cuz of the sneak thing, but then it was totally hilarious."

"Really?" Oh, god. Cho just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. She was totally embarrassed. Moaning? Never, ever in her life had she done _that_ before! And about Harry? She hadn't talked about him ever since their sudden break-up at the end of last term.

She was over him, right? She hadn't felt anything for him, right? The relationship had ended terribly, and they were now too embarrassed to look at each other, let alone speak! It would just be terribly awkward to go up to him and talk after their lethal love spat. Besides, she was tired of him leaving her for Hermione and Ron all the time. Sure they were his friends, but she was his girlfriend! He was also supposed to spend time with her. If he didn't want the commitment then he should have just told her so in the first place and she wouldn't have gotten her hopes too high. But half of her was also feeling kind of guilty.

Harry Potter was trying his hardest to understand her. He was going to fight against Voldemort, he was training the D.A. and dealing with Umbridges' constant interruptions. Life wasn't exactly easy for him. Not that that gave him an excuse to be a complete arse with her. Of course, maybe if she hadn't been mourning over Cedric and talking about him when she was supposed to be with Harry, maybe it would've been better. It's not like people enjoyed talking about other people's dead ex boyfriends. Ok, maybe it was both of their faults. But mostly his, right?

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Ouch." She winced, rubbing her arm like a little girl who had been caught doing a prank "I've never been more embarrassed in my life…."

"If you still like him, tell him."

"I can't!" Cho was amazed that she could suggest such a thing. Not after last year. He probably didn't even want to see her for the rest of his life. "He probably hates me."

"Ugh." Marietta rolled her eyes, using the sofa for support as she stood up. "He was totally jealous when he saw you talking to Roger on the quidditch match last year. His face totally turned red and he was glaring at him."

"Really?!" Cho asked brightly. Marietta shot her a half-smug half-sleazy grin and she cleared her throat. "Err, really?"

"Yes, really." Marietta gently prodded her with her foot. "Now let's stop any talk concerning your sexual fantasies about Potter. I promised Michael I'd meet him at the mall, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, right." Cho sighed. She turned to her right, bounding in the direction of her room to find a decent pair of clothes to change into. "Lemme get changed."

"That's good and all," Marietta giggled "but the room is up the stairs."

"Oh, yeah, right." Cho shot her an embarrassed smile before climbing up the stairs. "Up the stairs I go."

"Ugh, that one." Marietta muttered darkly, watching as her friend's figure disappeared into the bedroom "What's so special about Harry Potter anyways?"

* * *

_Harry was snoring loudly._

_He was sitting in his chair, near the window, and had been for long hours, almost until he was pretty sure his arse had flattened. Why near the window? He had been staring outside, closely pressed against it, waiting for any sign of an attack. So he had fallen asleep, his cheek tightly against the window, glasses twisted by the force and his slow, deep breathing fogging up the dirty crystal panel as his mouth hung ajar. Outside was peaceful, almost unnerving, and the orange glow of the streetlamp in the corner cast an eerie glow over him, making his skin seem pale, which was really horrible because it made him look rather ghastly with the shock of jet-black hair and his dark eyebrows._

_The room was a mess, a total pigsty. It was strewn with various possessions, and a good amount of worthless rubbish. Owl feathers, apple cores and sweet wrappers littered the floor, a number of spell books lay open and sprawled on his bed next to a pile of disheveled cloaks, robes and school clothing and a mess of newspapers sat in a puddle of light cast by an old lamp on his desk. The first one read: **Harry Potter: The Chosen One?** The second was presented in the front page with even larger: **Scrimgeour Succeeds Fudge** and the third and final one read: **Ministry Garantees Student's Safety**. Half of that story was obscured by a large birdcage. Harry's snowy owl, Hedwig, gave a low hoot and clipped her beak impatiently, but her master was too deeply asleep to hear it._

_He grunted in his sleep, face sliding a few more inches down the glass and making his glasses more lopsided against his face, probably burying the metal into his skin, but he didn't wake up. An old alarm clock that had once belonged to his massive cousin Dudley ticked softly against the silence of his room. One minute to eleven. Just one more minute. Beside the clock, gently held in place by Harry's relaxed hand, was a piece of parchment covered in thin, slanted writing. Dumbledore's letter. During the past few days since its arrival, he had read it so much that the curve that had set in once the parchment had been furled was now non-existent, and it lay flat against the nightstand. Dumbledore had said, Dumbledore had promised, to come this night._

_He shifted slightly in the chair, and a piece of parchment that had been sitting forgotten on his lap fell swiftly on the floor._

_The paper really had nothing important in it. A few smudged letters here and there, a drawing he had hastily made while trying to describe something that resembled childish affection, a few words that he hadn't quite managed to place properly. A pitiful attempt at writing a letter to someone. A mess. Just like his room. The only sentence that actually managed to make sence was the one scribbled on the top. Just a name with no importance whatsoever now that he was fast asleep._

_**Dear Cho:**_

* * *

A/N: I had no idea what to do in the Harry part! I was like, wtf, what can i do to bring in Harry without changing how the book began, much? So i settled for this. Lame, i know ::Dejected sigh:: Please review and say if you like!!! PLEEEEEEEEESE!!! 


	2. An excess of life

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me. Thought, if it did, Draco and Ginny would end up together, and Harry and Cho would've been married in the epilogue in book seven :P

A//N: Well, here's my next chap! Keep in mind that I'm new at this, so don't be too harsh on me. As you may know (Or not) I am puertorican, so my main language is Spanish, and my English is a bit faulty. Right now I just want to show how Cho's life is a bit, then Hogwarts, then emotions and such. I don't want to go and make a story like: Hey. Hey! Sorry. All right. Let's shag? Sure! I want to pace it and set the mood :) Please review, and give advice if you can.

Also, I said this is a re-write of **book** **six**, and by a re-write, I mean I'm writing it _my _way, not the same way the book was. That's just stupid, cuz if I change what happens, then the plot won't be the same. Cho's the only girl I like with Harry, and no, I won't just make them love each other on sight. Enough of my chatter, read on, and don't forget to review!

* * *

It was going to be a hot day. It _was_ a hot day, and the night had done nothing to cool the heat that was suffocating them. She tossed around in her bed panting before subconsciously pulling down the sweat-soaked sheets with her feet. She couldn't remember the last time it had been so hot in London, but it was driving her crazy. She shifted in her bed again, dragging a hand behind her neck to wipe the sweat that was gathering. 

A drought would've been welcome by now, thought it was a nearly impossible wish in mid-summer. She had at least expected for the weather cool down as the new school semester neared, but so far, all the weather did was get drier and drier as the days went by. It was as if hell's oven had been opened, and the earth's constant vapor had only made it worse.

The large window at the end of the room that lay half-opened most of the time was splayed in hopes of inviting a non-existent breeze inside the stuffy house. Even the wind chimes that hung above her roommate's bed post looked pitiful, just dangling still and quiet. The silence was equally or more suffocating than the heat itself.

Marietta now moved again, mattress creaking with effort, and wiped at the sweat gathering at her forehead and on the back of her knees. With a grunt, she moved into a fetal position, clutching her knees so hard that her nails buried into her skin, and drawing blood was a possibility. Something was not okay. Something was…wrong…something was wrong. She exhaled forcefully through her nose, and the crisp air around her seemed to compress her lungs further. God, she just had to choose to leave her hair grow this summer, when the heat was eating her alive. And if she had problems with her long hair, then Cho must've been dead by now.

Cho.

Even thought her friend was on the bed a few feet from her, no sound came from it. And how could she not _feel _the incinerating heat? Marietta sleepily grabbed the sheets she had discarded a few minutes ago and wrapped them around her body like a cloak, ignoring the heat or the fact that they were damp with her sweat, before sitting in her bed and casting a weary glance over at her friend's bed. At first, she couldn't see anything, because her eyes were not used to the dark, and because the room had no light to guide her sight. But muggles, bless them sometimes, came to the rescue. A car sped by the house, and the light cast a shadow through the window, revealing an empty space where her friend should've been.

The bed had been obviously slept-in, since the sheets were all scrunched up and the mattress' cover was wrinkled, but Cho was simply…not there.

Marietta sat there, stupidly staring at the empty bed for what seemed like an eternity before abruptly making a grab for her wand, which lay forgotten inside a drawer next to her bed. On her effort to stretch and pull the drawer open, her limbs got tangled in her sheets, and she fell face-first on the floor with a painful thud. Her eyes watered as her mouth cushioned most of the fall, but not much damage was done because of her sheets, and she continued fumbling for the magical stick.

"Lumos!" She hurriedly said once she had finally managed to grab the wand, only to drop it clutching her hand in pain as it burned from the spell "Oh, ouch! God, geez. Aw…damn" She drew a sharp intake of breath before picking the wand up again and carefully examining to see which end she had "This things should glow in the dark just in case…god…"

The dim light that her wand shot cast a pleasant glow over the once darkened room, but there was no trace that indicated where her friend had gone. She huffed, turning to stare at the doorframe in hopes of just watching Cho enter and confess that she simply had drank too much water before going to sleep, and grinning before both going back to their respective beds. But those hopes vanished after the first fifteen minutes, and she gulped down hard, staring at the hallway beyond.

She had never had much love for the night. Ever since her father had told her stories about magical beasts that wondered the household while darkness shielded them, she had avoided getting out of her room or dormitory without a friend to accompany her. Now even more than back then, because you never knew when a death-eater would pop out of the shadows and send you to oblivion. Reluctantly, Marietta slid into the vast hallway, which seemed to stretch and twist in the shadows, and stared at the bathroom on her right, but the door was opened and the lights were turned off, so no such luck.

She would simply have to walk through the house. No big deal. Just an empty house. With moving shadows. Silent. And eerie old muggle pictures whose gaze seemed to follow you around not matter where you went.

"It's all right." She whispered reassuringly to herself "It's no big deal. You're a big girl now, of age, ready for a family of your own. Ju-just move down the stairs..."

And she could've sworn her joints creaked with effort just like her bed had done as she forced her feet into a steady pace down the stairs. She really should stop watching muggle horror movies with Cho after dark. The stairs seemed to hint malice as she walked slowly down them, clutching the polished handle at the side for support in a hard grip, just in case something tried pushing her down. Crazy, sure. But it was better than slipping off at certain given point and breaking your neck, or you back, or running down when some crazy psycho chose to murder you with an extremely long knife. Really. Better safe than sorry.

"Our love is like this, you there and I'm here" She sang. Or she would've if her throat hadn't been so constricted by fear and her nerves. The words came out as incoherent mumbling better suited for the crazy old cat lady next door instead of a pretty teenage girl looking for her friend while trying to sing a love song to calm herself down. "I'm dieing for you, what else can I do? And- and…Michael?"

The tall black boy lay sprawled on the floor of the guests' room, snoring loudly with his sheets wrapped tightly around his body like a straight-jacket. It had become quite the custom of inviting him to stay over for their movie night, since he was a childhood friend and the only guy they both trusted enough to let wonder around the house without the worries of him trying to sneak a peak at them. He mumbled, reaching up to his bed to pick up his pillow before placing it neatly behind his head and snoring again. Marietta shook her head, closing the door behind her and staring at the hallway that lead to the kitchen.

To her surprise, it wasn't dark in there. The refrigerator's door had been opened, and the gallon of water was placed neatly on the surface of the small table, beside an empty glass. It was sort of a relief to find something thrown like that, but she didn't know whether it had really been Cho or if Michael had just left the things outside after serving himself. It would even be normal to just go out at night and see things sprawled across the kitchen table. The three of them had quite a nasty habit of messing things up around the house. Empty gallon of water? Normal. Stuffed animal on the counter? Not normal.

It wasn't like Cho to leave the rabbit Marietta had given her when they had become best friend at age six. That worried her a bit. Also the fact that Cho had left the room, which puzzled her, since both girls had a somewhat exaggerated fear of the dark and they wouldn't go anywhere at night without a wand and each other.

"Miss Bunny-Boo." Marietta carefully picked the rabbit, softening the wrinkles of her purple ballerina tutu, and cradling it gently in her arms like an infant who had just been carelessly tossed aside "Where's Cho?" But the stuffed toy's beady eyes didn't hold an answer.

Marietta placed the water gallon inside the fridge before closing it shut and lighting her wand again, clutching the bunny tighter. The clock on the wall said four forty-seven. What on earth could Cho be doing at that time of morning? Marietta snorted, gingerly walking into the living room before sighing in relief.

"Heavens, thank you…."

The living-room was the only part of the house that had marble instead of the normal wood that the house was made of. The surface felt cool under her feet as she walked over to her friend, carefully avoiding stepping on the broken shards of glass scattered across the floor. On the far end of the room, near one of the two large sofas was Cho. She was sweating profusely, curled up in a ball that made her look small and fragile, almost childlike. She kneeled over, running a hand through her friend's dark hair before gently shaking her by her shoulders.

"Cho, what are you doing here?" The Asian girl rubbed her cheek against the floor, ignoring her, and Marietta shook her again, this time getting a groan of displeasure in return "Why are you here?"

"Floorwuzcold" She mumbled sleepily, turning so that her other cheek touched the marble "Sleepy…hurts…" And then she blanched suddenly, color draining completely off her face and lips.

"Come here," Marietta pulled her up to her knees, and she looked around blearily, obviously lost. Remembering the chocolate frog on her pocket, Marietta pulled it out and placed it in her friend's shaky palm "eat this."

"You wake me up God knows when for some chocolate?" Cho muttered sleepy. Waking her up before her time was up usually brought on dangerous consequences for anyone who tried it. "I would strangle you if I wasn't so sleepy."

"Don't be a bitch about it, you look terrible." Marietta moved her hands, ushering her to eat the candy "It'll calm you down."

"God." She croaked, taking the chocolate frog but dropping her hands on the floor for support "I don't feel so good…"

"It's the heat" Marietta said firmly, trying to help her up when the Cho herself was making no effort whatsoever to move out of the floor. Her skin felt was boiling hot to the touch. "Come on, lets get you to the bathroom."

"It's not the bloody heat!" she protested, weakly trying to shove her away "My heart hurts. My heart hurts…I have this pain in my chest…My heart hurts, but its not bleeding, I've checked. Why? It really hurts…"

"Stop talking nonsense" Marietta was getting worried, not to mention the heat was really getting to her and was making her agitated and angry "The heat is going to your head. It'll all be better after a cold shower, trust me."

"No" she pressed her burning forehead into the floor again, and Marietta suddenly caught a glimpse of here eyes. Strangely…they seemed too dark, even for her own brown. They flashed dangerously as she pulled at her hand, trying to help her up. "I have to stay here."

"Michael!" Marietta called loudly, tugging at Cho's pajamas "Michael, come here, you bloody lout!"

There was a rush of footsteps and Michael's scared face appeared from the kitchen entrance "Wuzzgoingon?"

"Cho's gone delusional! Help me carry her up to the bathroom before she gets a heat-stroke." The last thing she wanted was for her friend to have a heart attack on their new home. "Don't just stand there, come here and help!"

"I don't need help!!!" Cho angrily pushed her aside "I'm fine, see? No--" and then she slumped against the floor, and Marietta removed her fingers from her pale forehead.

"Damn…" Michael stared at her in disbelief "What did you do to her?"

"I placed her to sleep for a while, Just- just carry her up to the bathtub and I'll do the rest, okay?" and she sighed as he picked her up.

It was going to be a long morning.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked worriedly, leaning against the doorframe of his room. Well, Fred and George's room, really. "You've been locked up here all afternoon…." 

Harry quickly turned around, clutching the parchment he had been writing on tightly against his back. "Nothing!" he said angrily "I'm just tired, that's all."

"Just tired, that's all" She repeated his words cautiously, giving him a weary glare "Harry, you've been doing nothing since you got here five days ago. I doubt that you're tired."

"That's what you think." He spat, clutching the parchment so hard that he was sure it would crumble apart if he pulled at it any more "Haven't you paused to think that I might be having nightmares about what happened?"

"I'm sorry" Hermione said, and she removed herself from the doorframe, eyes downcast. Harry felt a small twinge of guilt as she looked up at him with watering eyes, but nothing more. "I should've never bothered you like that. O- of course your sufferings because of that, we all are, I'm just…so sorry…."

"It's all right…" He said slowly. Then a sudden thought occurred to him, and he snapped his head up to look at her "Hermione, about that spell you put on Marietta Edgecombe's face…?"

"Yes?" She frowned, wiping her eyes on her sleeves "What about it?"

"I need you to remove it."

"…..what?"

"Look," Harry opened his mouth to explain before, clamping it shut for a few seconds. This was his problem now, and he didn't exactly feel like sharing it with anyone. "Just get rid of it, ok? Turn her back to normal for me. It's all I ask from you."

"Sure, if that's what you want, but, if you don't mind me asking" Her frown deepened "Why now, of all times? You never really seemed to care about it when it first happened, why the change of heart?"

"I can't. Just do it, all right?" And she nodded, closing the door behind her and leaving Harry to his ponderings.

Why the change of heart now, after more than a few months?

Life was short. One minute you could be talking to a person, the next he was out of your life. So many things were left unsaid; so many moments had been spoiled. Their time together had been cut short, and once again, Harry found himself alone in life, with no one to relate to. In James' absence, Sirius had become the father Harry had needed. The one person he could talk to about everything that concerned him. And now he was gone. And it was all his fault.

It was his fault his parents had died. It was his fault Neville had lost his parents. That Cedric was gone. That Cho was left to suffer alone. It was his fault that Sirius lay dead. And his inability to do anything about it at the time angered him.

He had burned some serious bridges in the past year, and he wasn't going to let that happen again. Sure, rebuilding every one of them would be hard work, but it would be worth it. Or at least he hoped. Of one thing he was certain: Mourning would do him no good. Sitting alone in a room without food or water, just ebbing, wasting away into nothingness was not the way to go. His father, mother and godfather had risked their lives for him, and that sacrifice wouldn't be in vain. If he was to fall into oblivion, he was going to make sure that he took the man who had ripped his life apart with him.

He sighed, looking at the door for a few minutes. Once he was sure that Hermione wouldn't return and burst through the door with Ron complaining about what he just said, he sat on the bed and opened the scrunched up piece of paper he had been clutching. The ink on it had ran down, and the few letters he had managed to write where now blotchy, a mess that not even he could decipher. He sighed, pulling up his care of magical creature's book and placing it under a new piece of parchment for support.

He stared at it, frowning as he tried remembering what he had written on the previous parchment. No use. His mind was just as blank as the paper. What could he possibly say? Sorry? No, definitely not. It was too clichéd. He leaned back into his pillow, biting at the quill's tip before running the feathery end against his chin in thought. If he was truly sorry then saying it face-to-face would be a better option than sending it on a piece of paper to a person. For all that person knew, he might be lying. One thing was writing it and meaning it, another was just saying it and moving away as if it didn't mean anything. As if nothing had ever happened between them.

What did this letter mean to him, exactly? What would it mean for the person receiving it? So far, he hadn't given it much thought, but now that he was actually writing it down to send it, it was an entirely different case.

He was nervous, that much was true. Over three years he had spent countless occasions daydreaming over what could be, and after finally getting his chance, he had screwed up terribly. Silly, he knew. Stupid, even. But what was he to do? What more could he have said? He couldn't just go and confess love that he had never felt. Affection, yes, a lot of that. But saying 'I love you' when he had never experienced it in his life was simply ridiculous. More when he barely knew her. Err, the person.

The person. How pathetic.

He had grown so ashamed of himself, of what he had carelessly done, that he didn't even want to acknowledge that she had been something important to him once. Because he was certain her affection for him had been short-lived, and that she had grown bored of him. And maybe that had been his fault too. Hermione had once said that a relationship took time, patience to work. And he neither had the time nor patience to just sit at the end of the day and talk about what they had done during the said, and how they felt about it. He had never been the affectionate type, and she was all the contrary. Most of their time together had been brought on by her gentle coaxing. Sit here, let's talk, let's walk around the castle, let's go near the lake, I just want you near.

Things that seemed so complicated at first, which he had never understood about her before, now seemed so trivial and simple to do. It made him feel so dull, and incredibly dim-witted. He almost wanted to smack himself for that. Almost. Because it was her fault too. She just had to keep insisting about the dead Hufflepuff seeker, even when it was plain that he did not want to talk about him, and that it annoyed him.

He furled up the scroll, placing it neatly on the desk beside his bed, next to the ink bottle and some old school books. Writing could wait another day or two, his stomach couldn't.

He stretched, bouncing slightly on the spot, before running out the door and down the steps. He walked down the hall that led into the small Weasley kitchen, grinning as Mrs. Weasley's voice reached his ears.

"Really boys, you need to get haircuts" She said exasperatedly. There was a clatter and a bang as a pot fell, rolling past Harry's feet. "You're starting to look like girls!"

"Am I a pretty girl, mum?" Fred asked, and he was sure he heard Ginny and Hermione laughing. "Well?"

"Oh, yes" George replied "You're beautiful, Fred. As a matter of fact, if you were any prettier you would surpass-- Harry! "

"Oh, yes" Fred grinned at him, stuffing a large muffing into his mouth "He's a dreamy one ain't he? And his butt is cute, too. And those green eyes are simply gorgeous!" Ginny seemed mortified by this, and quite red in the face, she buried her head behind a magazine with the title _Teen witch_, in large glittery pink letters.

"Hey, mate" George patted him on the back, an action that sent his glasses hurling into the table as he leaned over from the force of the hit "Heard you're sleeping in our room. I've no problem with it, and you won't, you know, as long as you don't eat or touch anything inappropriate."

"George, Fred." He nodded in what he hoped was their direction as he fumbled in the table for his glasses. Someone grabbed his hand, and placed them on his open palm. "Err, thanks." he slipped them back on, and Ginny's blush deepened as her fingers brushed against his own.

"No problem." She said, and she settled into her chair looking pleased with herself. Ever since his arrival at the borrow, Ginny had been constantly trying to approach him. Her attempts were subtle, and most of the time he would pretend not to notice them, but it was sort of annoying. He had gotten quite enough _romance_ on the past semester, and was pretty sure he wanted nothing to do with it for the rest of his life.

"So, Captain…" Ron began. He was also annoying Harry in his own way. Every time he saw him, he would suggest strategies that he had seen from his favorite quidditch team, and kept on going on about who to choose when the team formed anew "When d'you think we can start training?"

"Oh, Ronald!" Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes at him and popping a grape into her mouth "Leave him alone! You've been pestering him with the quidditch thing ever since he got the badge! Give it a rest already!"

"Fine!" Ron looked over his shoulder to make sure that his mom wasn't there before leaning near the table and signaling the rest of the party to join him "What bout the D.A.? I mean, most of the people in it must still have their galleons, can't we signal them to meet us again or something?"

"I guess so" Harry said in a hushed tone "But I doubt that all of them will return. "

"What are you saying?" Ginny asked him, a frown etched deep on her brow. Harry raised an eyebrow and she pursed her lips "Recruit?"

"Exactly."

"Why are we still whispering?"

"No idea." They all leaned back into their chairs, and Hermione tapped Harry's shoulder "What?"

"We need to talk." she mouthed, and he frowned "now."

"Now?" His stomach gave another growl, insides squirming in protest as he reluctantly stood up, giving his empty bowl a sorrowful look as she nodded, also standing up "All right, but make it quick."

"No problem there." And she simply gave him a scroll and a polite nod before turning on her heels and bounding into the kitchen again "Wait, what's…this." But she was already on the other side, sitting on her chair.

He sighed, opening the tiny piece of parchment before reading what was inside. It was short and simple, in elegant penmanship. Just two words that seemed to puzzle him as much the sudden letter had:

_I don't_.

* * *

Cho slowly stuffed another mouthful of scrambled eggs into her mouth, gazing from the corner of her eyes as Marietta and Michael's eyes moved to watch her eat. She didn't know what was wrong, seriously. She had just woken up, she had made herself some breakfast and served some juice, and her two friends had sat on the opposite side of the table, watching her every move. It was strange, and extremely unnerving. She settled the fork down, picking up the glass of orange juice next to her plate and taking a sip from it, watching as, yet again, two pairs of eyes lingered intently on her form. 

She didn't get it. Why was it so interesting to watch her eat breakfast, all of a sudden? She looked at them with a nervous smile, before casting a weary glance over both of her shoulders, just in case they were seeing something she wasn't. There was nothing there, just the hallway and the stairs, and she shot them another nervous glance before picking up her fork again and bringing another piece of egg to her mouth while tapping the table with her free hand.

And again, the creepy wide-eyed stare, as if she would just jump out any second and stab them both with her fork. Had she done something to upset them both, maybe without her knowledge? She was pretty sure she had been good to them over the past night. Popcorn, a horror movie, some chocolate frogs and then bed. What else had there been? Whatever the reason was for their staring, she had no idea. She took another sip of her drink, and Marietta released a gasp of air. What the hell had she done wrong?!!!!!

She swallowed a piece of toast, and watched when their gaze followed her hands as she settled her fork down on the table. All that staring, it really came out as creepy.

"Right." She said casually "What's with the staring? And don't tell me its because I'm pretty and you admire that, cuz it's a load of crap."

"Oh, nothing, nothing." Marietta answered with an extremely fake smile. It was so strained that it made her seem like a mad-woman. In any other occasion, it would've sent her rolling to the floor with laughter, but since she didn't know why she was smiling like that, Cho glared at her "Really, its nothing."

"Yeah." Michael said, and there was something insincere in his voice that made her ball her fists until they cracked menacingly " Err, how are you feeling this morning?"

"Fine, fine.." She answered through gritted teeth. If it was something Cho had always detested it was when people, specially her friends or family, lied to her. She wasn't a little kid anymore, she knew when things weren't true. A simple 'nothing' was never good enough of an answer. "How about you?"

"Oh, you know, a bit hot, a bit sleepy. The usual."

"Usual, huh?" She pushed her plate aside and placed her hand on the table, dead serious and looking at them expectantly "I must look pretty stupid, huh?"

"Its not that." Michael said stiffly, shooting Marietta a nervous glance "We would never say, or think that, you know it. We're just a bit worried about you, that's all…"

"Really, now?" She lifted her glass up, staring at the contents inside. "I'm not allergic to orange juice, toast or eggs. Did you poison me or something?"

"No. At least I didn't. Michael?" The boy shook his head and she turned to Cho again "See? Nothing's wrong. We're just watching you eat, is all. Is that so weird?"

"Yes." Cho answered flatly "It seems like something a stalker or a murderer would do." She stopped abruptly, giving them another weary and suspicious glance "You're not killing me to sell the house, are you?"

"No!" Marietta huffed, angry with the accusation "You're like my sister! I would never do something like that to you!!"

"Look, Cho," Michael began, ignoring the wide-eyes glance that the girl sitting next to him shot him "It's just that, this morning, Marietta found you in the living-room. We were really worried, you know? You had a fever, and you were pale and you kept on saying that your heart hurt. Marietta tried taking you to the bathroom but you refused, so she just sent to sleep with a healing spell. We didn't expect you to be up so early."

"So…that's why you were staring?" That was all? She had been sleep-walking and they were making a fuss over it? Big deal, its not like she had attempted to _kill_ them. And even if she had, where they not standing in front of them safely? She rolled her eyes "So? I see no problem there. Last time I sleep walked I ended up in the bathroom, clutching the toilet paper to my heart."

"Well, you know, Marietta is still a novice at healing, unlike her dad, so we weren't really sure if her spell would have any unwanted…aftereffects…on you." _Aftereffects?_ Did that mean that she would be crazy or something? Some brain damage, maybe?

"I don't feel retarded." She checked her arms and body, just in case she was missing something important, or essential. All her vital signs seemed to be normal "I feel pretty good, actually. I haven't slept that comfortable for a while."

"Good."

"Yeah.." Marietta sighed, looking oddly relieved "I didn't want to be known as the girl who gave her best friend brain damage. Do you know what that would do to our friendship? Not to mention my career as a healer would come to an abrupt stop"

"You mean you attempted to heal me without knowing whether the spell would turn my brain into mush? And oh no, forget that you just made me retarded, your job is so much more important! It's nice to know you care, thanks a lot, Etta."

"That's what friends are for."

"Anyways, School starts in half a month, we need to go shopping." Michael slid off his chair and stretched "Next week, perhaps?"

"Sure, why not." Marietta took a chocolate bar that had been sitting unattended in the table and opened, it talking through a large chunk "but we have to clean the house soon. What say you, Cho?"

"Next week's perfect. And, Etta, I've told you before, that's going to your brain, teeth and thighs." Marietta scowled, taking another bite and Cho grinned roguishly "But the house cleaning comes first, and I am _not_ scrubbing the toilets."

* * *

A/N: Well a lot has happened since my first chapter. I got suspended for fighting, my psychiatrist gave me anxiety pills (Cuz I eat my nails, nasty habit. I hate going psychologists, mum sends me cuz I'm a lazy sod and refuse to do my homework), and I just had to clean the two bathrooms in my house. God, my skin is still crawling. 

Too honest? Just for youse guys :P Review!


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